


Inked!

by MykEsprit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Humor, Ink Magic, M/M, coarse language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit
Summary: The Selkies of the Black Lake call on new heroes to save them from an abomination.





	Inked!

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2019Round3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2019Round3) collection. 



Long ago, when above us there was more than sky—when the silt and stones were exposed to air, dry enough for green things to grow and many-limbed creatures to crawl upon them—when we were but a small clan, isolated in this pocket of fresh water and magic—

There was the Great One. She protected us from that thing called ‘land’ and all manner of beasts and beings that fell from it. She shielded us when wizards warred with each other, uncaring of the destruction they wrought.

She was our guardian, our champion, and our god; we thought there was nothing more powerful than She until _it_ found its way into our waters. As ancient as the Great One, it broke through the barrier that only man-made vessels had breached.

It was as apathetic as She was benevolent. It had large eyes, flat and black. Its body was dull and grey, like a Merrow’s corpse, crossed with jagged scars. And it only had one goal, one primal drive in its entire existence—to destroy our Great One.

It swam through our lake, silent and quiet, like it was in the depths of the salt sea. When it found the Great One…

She fought and struggled, tightened and twisted and _squeezed_. Yet, She, alone, was no match to its powerful jaws and thrashing body.

When it lunged to deliver a fatal bite, She untangled herself from it and expelled her inky magic—a substance that rendered her invisible and plunged our waters into an immediate night.

The Great One was gone, to heal Her wounds in solitude, or perhaps to die in peace. But _it_...it loomed over us in the dark, doing what it did best, what it had been doing for millennia—wait.

Throughout that artificial night, our clan huddled in fear.

“What do we do?” asked a hunter to an elder. “Without Her, it will surely destroy everything. It will come for us soon.”

“Doomed,” another said. “Doomed.”

And the word spread through the crowd like a disease, murmured by frightened fathers clutching their young to their chests and whispered by the female hunters even as they tightened their grips on their spears.

_Doomed._

The elder raised her hands above her head, barely visible in the muted glow orbs. “We will do what our ancestors have done before the Great One arrived.” Her sharp gaze traced the outline of her clan in the darkness. “We will fight. And we will survive.”

“With sticks? With nets we had weaved to catch small fish?” a voice called out. “We are hunters, not warriors. It will destroy us.”

Then, there was another murmur through the crowd, and it rose up like a supplication.

_The boy._

The elder nodded. “The boy. Yes. The boy will help us as he has helped everyone. We must find the boy.”

From the crowd, a figure swam forward. She was short and slight, mostly bone where there should have been hardened muscle, but the spear across her back marked her for what she was: a hunter.

She held out her hands, gently cupped around a sphere of inky night.

The elder angled her head. “Kreek? What is this you offer?”

“I was there when it battled the Great One,” Kreek said. “I was hunting on my own—”

A pointed hiss came from the crowd; the hunting leader. “You should not have been out on your own. Miserable krill, always with something to prove. You could have gotten yourself killed, and anyone who would have pitied you enough to try and rescue you—”

“Silence,” the elder said, shooting a glare at the imposing figure. The hunting leader shrank back into the huddled mass.

Kreek lifted her chin, keeping her steady gaze on the elder. “I was there when they fought. When She made the waters dark, She swam away from it, and I followed Her. She used her ink magic again, only this time, it made Her vanish right before my eyes. But I was close enough to gather this.” She held the sphere higher. The darkness inside it swirled as if beckoned. “The magic that made Her invisible.”

The elder closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “You have done well, Kreek. We will offer it to the boy, and it will aid him when he vanquishes _it._ ” She placed her webbed fingers on Kreek’s thin shoulder. “Now, go. Find him. Find the boy.”

* * *

While Kreek’s skill with the spear was mediocre at best, she excelled in tracking. She was also exceptional at making friends outside of the clan—at first, out of necessity, for she was often jostled to the edge of their small social circle by the louder and more boisterous females. As she grew older, she found solace in her friendships with other beings.

One such friend she had made was a young professor with hair like moonlight and eyes the color of a winter storm.

“The boy?” the professor asked. He bobbed up and down as he trod water.

“The boy,” Kreek said. “The one who destroyed evil seven times. The one made of lightning. Who defied death. We need him to save us. Where is he?”

The professor winced. “Retired.”

“Re-tired?”

“And not much of a boy any longer, I’m afraid.” The professor raked his fingers through the water, causing ripples that reflected the late afternoon sunlight. “I could ask someone just as good. Married to him, actually.”

“He will help us? Your mate?”

“Of course, he will,” he said, although his tone carried less certainty than his words. “Just, perhaps...don’t bring up his father too much.” He leaned forward, whispering, “He’s a little sensitive about being compared to him.”

Kreek gave him a profound nod. “Thank you, Scorpius.”

* * *

 “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

They splashed into the water, making more noise than a beached kraken. Beyond the shallow, Kreek waited for them patiently.

“I can’t believe I succeeded,” Scorpius said. “It’s usually _you_ who would pull _me_ into doing something stupid.”

His husband snorted. “Not like I ever had to twist your arm.”

Scorpius paused. “No.” He held his hand out. “With you, Al, I could never really say ‘no’.” Albus slid his hands into his, and Scorpius squeezed his fingers. “Besides, you wouldn’t have survived any of it without me.”

Albus gave him a lopsided smile. “No. I wouldn’t have.” He tugged Scorpius’ hand. “Now, let’s go see what’s this all about.”

It took several minutes for them to swim out in the water where Kreek waited. As they approached, Albus noticed the object in her hand—the watery sphere encasing darkness.

“Hello,” Scorpius said.

Kreek opened her mouth—and a piercing shriek made the wizards clap their hands over their ears.

“Sorry!” Scorpius yelled. “So sorry, I forgot!” He unsheathed his wand and waved it over his and Albus’ heads wordlessly. “That should do it.” He glanced at Kreek apologetically. “You were saying.”

Kreek blinked. “Thank you for coming.” She glanced at Albus, who looked much like the boy of legend. Her gaze lingered on his forehead, where dark fringes grazed on unblemished skin. “You will be helping us?”

“As much as we can.” Albus nodded. “As an official for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you and your people are safe.”

Kreek withheld her grimace; amongst her clan, much was said about the DRCMC. None of it was positive. At the corner of her eye, she peeked at her trusted friend. “You’re sure you can handle this, Scorpius?”

“Between Al’s experience in the Ministry and mine as professor of Care of Magical Creatures, I think we can handle a giant shark easily.” He snuck a look at his husband’s stoic face. “Probably,” he added under his breath.

Kreek sucked in a fortifying breath—a habit she formed from being around land walkers so often—before she offered the sphere to them.

“What is it?” Scorpius asked.

“It’s ink magic from the Great One. It made Her invisible.” She pushed the sphere towards them, and it floated between the wizards. “May it aid you in taking down the abomination.”

“Invisibility, huh?” Gingerly, Albus poked at the sphere. “It’s not like a shark uses just its eyesight to kill—”

“It’s  _magical_ ink from a one-of-a-kind creature. It’s bound to do more than that,” Scorpius reasoned. “Maybe it will give us cool superpowers.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Albus blinked at him slowly.

Scorpius leaned toward his ear. “Listen, love. The clan must be desperate if they’re asking for outside help. I think we need to do this.”

It was two breaths before Albus answered him. “All right. Let’s get this over and done with. Maybe we can get home before _Bake-Off_ is over.”

“Great,” Scorpius muttered. “Can’t wait. Another night in front of the Muggle telly.” With a sigh, he turned towards Kreek. “So. What do we do?” He waved his fingers over his face. “Do we just...splash ourselves with this thing or what?”

Silently, Kreek raised her arms. The sphere floated off the water and positioned itself above the wizards’ heads. “Close your eyes.” She dropped her arms into the water with a splash.

The sphere broke apart, and squid ink showered over Scorpius’ and Albus’ heads.

“ _Ugh_. Gross.” Scorpius spat. “Got in my mouth.”

“That’s disgus—” Albus sputtered; then, he grunted as he twisted in the water.

Scorpius turned and tumbled, as well, and down, down beneath the surface they went. It was mere seconds before they stopped, first reaching out one limb to keep hold of each other, and then reaching out another.

And then another. And another.

“What. The. Bloody.” Albus thrashed a free limb in the water. “Fuck!” He turned towards Scorpius and found himself face-to-face with a pale, wide-eyed creature. “You’re a bloody squid!” He glanced at the legs and tentacles protruding from his body. “ _I’m_ a bloody squid!”

Scorpius grazed a tentacle over his face. “Oh. Did not see this coming.”

“Not even some sort of half-man-, half-breed creature.” Albus seethed. “A full, fucking squid!” He twirled in the water. “Kreek!”

Slowly, the Selkie swam out of the shadows, her head bowed.

“Kreek,” Albus muttered, a warning in his tone.

She raised her gaze, shame evident in her harsh features. “Perhaps this form will help,” she urged. “Man is no match for _it_ , but _squids_...they’re natural enemies.”

“We’re not a shark’s enemies in this form,” Albus growled, flailing his legs. “We’re—the amuse-bouche!”

“Al, Al, Al,” Scorpius ran a soothing tentacle over the back of his husband’s head. “Look, on the bright side; she’s right. It would have been tough for us to maneuver in the water as men, and with sharks, speed is a matter of survival. Now, look at us!” He turned somersaults in the water with ease. “We’ll be able to get that shark faster now.”

With a grumble, Albus folded his eight legs and two tentacles.

Scorpius nudged him with the tip of his own tentacle. “How about we go catch us that big ol' shark so we can go home and watch Paul Hollywood make eyes at scones?"

Slowly, Albus' limbs untangled. "Fine. I don't want to miss bread week," he griped. "Let's go hunt us a shark."

**Author's Note:**

> This story grew and grew in my head into this epic adventure, and it couldn't be contained within the limits of this comp's word count, so I chose to stop here! I'm hoping to expand this after the event is over.


End file.
